


From The Cage

by SixtySevenChevy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Season 8 finale, The Cage, it's my headcanon that they get along in the pit ok, the angels falling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 09:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SixtySevenChevy/pseuds/SixtySevenChevy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One minute they’re bickering over whose turn it is to watch TV, and the next they’re listening to nothing but silence.</p>
<p>The angels are falling. And all they can do is watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From The Cage

**Author's Note:**

> It's my headcanon that after a while, Michael and Lucifer would get bored of torturing Adam (and each other) and everybody would become bros and they would conjure up a house and coexist semi-peacefully. Also, I kind of sort of ship Michael and Lucifer, so if this seems like a little more than brotherly love, sorry. That was unintentional.

One minute they’re bickering over whose turn it is to watch TV, and the next they’re listening to nothing but silence.

Adam is curled up on the couch, fiddling with the remote, glancing suspiciously out the windows of the quaint little cottage Michael conjured up about a millennium ago. He watches the sky, since that’s where he’s always believed angels lived, but of course he doesn’t see anything but the eternally sunny day Michael loves so much. They’re not really on Earth, after all.

Lucifer and Michael are standing in the middle of the living room, arms raised and mouths opened to continue shouting at each other, when they go still. Lucifer rushes to the window, dragging Michael by the sleeve to stare outside, even though both know that they won’t see anything. 

“What’s happening?” Adam asks.

“I don’t know,” Michael breathes, eyes wide with confusion and fright. Lucifer blinks at the sky and it ripples and goes dark, full of wispy clouds and tiny pinpricks of starlight. Adam doesn’t react; he’s used to the two archangels changing the landscape outside to suit their moods, usually involuntarily. When they’re in the middle of an argument it snows. When they’re experiencing more sexual tension than usual, the temperatures skyrocket. Typically, it’s just a sunny summer day, with not a cloud in the sky and the forests green and healthy.

“Is that the sky?” Michael murmurs, staring searchingly at his brother. 

Lucifer nods. “The actual night sky, right over the entrance to the Cage in Lawrence.”

Adam gets up and sets the remote on the wooden end table, coming to stand next to the two and stare up into the sky. Everything is silent, where before there was always something, an unintelligible whisper in the background, a ringing in his ears. Now there’s nothing, and it’s deeply, profoundly _wrong._

“There isn’t anything happening,” Adam says softly, nearly pressing his nose against the glass. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume that the house had mysteriously moved into a cemetery, and that he was looking into the darkness from the mortal plane. Lucifer must have been practicing.

The thought is interrupted by a sudden explosion of sound. Adam claps his hands over his ears, grunting in pain. The archangels both shout, in pain and surprise, wincing and backing away from the window. Adam drops to his knees. He can feel blood welling in his ears. The ringing, the screaming, the pure _sound_ of it all causes agony he hasn’t felt since his first days in the Cage, when Michael and Lucifer would take turns torturing him. 

“Turn that off!” Michael orders loudly, one hand covering an ear and the other pointing at the sky. 

Lucifer shakes his head frantically. “That isn’t me!”

“Than what the hell is it?” Adam demands through gritted teeth. 

And then the sound stops. This silence is more severe, more absolute than before, full of broken promises and pain. Adam slowly stands up, taking his blood-flecked hands from his ears, and stares out the window. Outside, the night sky above Lawrence is coming alive with fire and light, streaks of sparks and explosions filling Adam’s vision.

“What is going on?” Lucifer growls in exasperation, fisting his hands in his blond hair. Michael shakes his head wordlessly, watching with wide eyes as the sky writhes and flashes, loud booming explosions the only sound in the now-dark cottage. Adam grabs onto the curtain for support when something explodes nearby, shaking the house’s foundations and rattling the wooden window frames. A streak of fire lands in the cemetery, smoldering in its crater.

“Shit,” Lucifer breathes. Adam turns to look at him. The devil looks absolutely horrified, eyes round as saucers, one hand covering his mouth. He sits down on the couch slowly, still watching helplessly as the sky continues to explode. 

“What is it?” Michael asks, still confused. Adam shifts his weight, watching the two brothers with trepidation. He stumbles when one of the comets—because that’s what they must be, right?—makes impact nearby. 

Except for the explosions, the silence is deafening, making Adam uneasy and slightly scared. And he doesn’t usually feel fear anymore. (Kind of hard to get scared, after all, when you’re sharing a house with God’s general and Satan.)

“The angels,” Lucifer whispers, looking at his brother with horrified eyes. “They’re falling.”

Michael shakes his head sharply, denying it. “No. Impossible.”

Lucifer barks out a harsh laugh. “It is. I remember the spell. Hell, I helped invent the spell.”

“No,” Michael repeats, with less conviction this time. He looks out the window again, watching the blackness of the night as it is turned into chaos, angels falling in screaming rays of light, plummeting to Earth to either burn to death in their landing places or to become human. “No.”

Lucifer stands. “I’m sorry, brother,” he murmurs. He comes to stand next to Michael, and the three men watch, awestruck and silenced with horror, for nearly an hour. They don’t say anything. What can you say when your family, your faith, is dying before your very eyes?

When it’s finally over, the night sky over Lawrence ripples and becomes a regular black night, somewhere on an empty plain, with a thick layer of cloud covering the stars and moon as one last angel falls. Adam shudders out a breath that is half-sob and runs a hand through his hair, straining his ears in the silence. The background noise of the angels is no more.

Michael coughs wetly, wrapping his arms securely around his chest. “Who did this?”

“Metatron,” Lucifer answers, without emotion. His voice is dead and empty, just as one would imagine the voice of the devil to be. He places a hand against the smooth glass of the window, which frosts over immediately. “He’s the only one but me who knew the spell.”

Adam swallows hard, listening to the sound it makes in his throat. It’s too quiet. Even down here in the Cage, they could hear the angels praising and singing. It had become a normal thing to wake up in the morning and listen to their songs, to go to bed at night with their arguments playing in his mind. It’s perverse and wrong to be without it after so long.

“How could he?” Michael murmurs. “He was one of us.”

“Even angels can commit atrocious crimes, brother,” Lucifer reminds him, leaning his head against the frosted window. 

Michael stifles a sob, covering his mouth with both hands. Lucifer turns around and places a hand on his brother’s shoulder, eyes full of tears that will never be shed. Michael inhales quickly, obviously trying to seem strong. Lucifer shakes his head sadly.

“We’re the only ones left,” Lucifer murmurs.

Michael nods brokenly. 

Adam strains his ears again. Silence.


End file.
